


Help

by onceuponamidnightqueery



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Lesbian Vanya Hargreeves, POV Lesbian Character, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:40:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28066368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponamidnightqueery/pseuds/onceuponamidnightqueery
Summary: Vanya x F!Reader smut in which the reader wants to make Vanya feel better when she feels excluded after another Hargreeves family meeting.
Relationships: Vanya Hargreeves & Original Female Character(s), Vanya Hargreeves & Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Help

**Author's Note:**

> me? writing blatant smut about my comfort character to avoid my problems? it's more likely than you think! someday I'll start doing actual titles but today is not that day.

"Vanya?" 

She is hunched over on the couch, head cradled in her hands. When you said her name, you caught a flash of red-stained eyes before she was quickly wiping her face, concealing herself from view. 

"Uh, hey. How was your- your family meeting?" 

Her voice is thick and strained, as though she were suffering from a bad cold. Even as she spoke, she kept her gaze trained on the floor.

"Vanya, are you okay?" 

"Fine," she replies hastily. "Just . . . my family." 

You sit down beside her, instinctively curving your hand over hers. Anger simmers in your stomach, but you keep your tone composed when you respond. "Again?" 

"We don't have to talk about it," says Vanya. She sounds more even now, more controlled, but there's a hollowness to each word, like the lone notes that trail softly from her violin when she's finishing up a practice. And she still won't look at you. 

Acting on impulse, you cup her chin with your palm. She allows you to turn her towards you, revealing her clearly to you for the first time. Her ebon eyes, normally limpid channels to her emotions, are dull and framed by the impressions of dark circles. Their long lashes are dewed with the dregs of a crying session. When she speaks, the tendon of her jaw is etched visibly into her soft skin- she's holding something back, a sob or a gasp. You hear her breath shuddering in her chest.  
"Will you be okay?" 

"Yeah," she says. Again, there's that emptiness. "I'm just tired of it." 

"You should be," you tell her. The platitude is as bland as it useless. You hate this feeling- the inadequacy that sits on your shoulders like lead. "What can I do for you?" you breathe. 

Her vision focuses then, until she's staring intently into your face, studying you. Suddenly she's less than an inch away, lips parted ever-so-slightly, her breath fanning your skin in warm waves. Her intense regard pierces you to your core. "Make me feel something," she whispers. "Anything but this." 

Before you can form an logical thought, you bow your head and kiss her. She is damp and stiff, but beneath a veneer of salt is all of her familiar sweetness. The chill of the air in the house magnifies her heat- she is scorching against you. Vanya murmurs unintelligibly around your tongue, then pulls back and seals her mouth over your clavicle. Her body arches, her leg swings to your other side, and she's perched on your lap, shadowing you. The swift deliberation with which she moves startles you, as you're normally the one to assume the lead. But something in the set of her face persuades you to fall back to let her take over. 

Your shirt pulls on your arms as she peels it off. The cold spreads icy fingers over your bare skin, but her fingers are warm, and they shape themselves to the curve of your shoulders. She nuzzles against the hollow of your throat, forcing your head back. The dark sheen of her hair glimmers in your vision as her face is obscured from view. For a moment you twist, trying to catch her eyes with yours, but she just grips your chin just as you had held hers and tilts back your head. "Relax," she instructs quietly when you tense up. You obey. 

The softness of your throat melts at the touch of her mouth. She skims her tongue gently across the patch of silky skin, then sucks. A stray lock of hair brushes like a feather against you when she repeats the motion a little lower, a little more firmly. Then again. Lips smoothing and tightening over every inch of your body, Vanya clings to you with a fierce need. When her bared teeth press beside your nipple, you automatically recoil from the threat of a bite, but she just grazes lightly down your abdomen. Her hands hug your waist as yours undo the button of your pants, which slide off with liquid ease and pile on the floor. She hooks your panties on her fingers and tugs those free, too. 

A low sigh rushes from her chest as she drinks in the sight of you. A shiver runs over your skin. 

Her tongue skates across her lips furtively, and then she leans forward and latches onto your clit. The first trembling contact stirs hot arousal low in your body. Vanya is precise and confident with her mouth, and soon your legs, forked around her head, are jerking helplessly at the steady pressure she applies. "Vanya," you cry out, but your voice dissolves into a keening moan when her lips ripple in a way that sends a thrill of pleasure up your spine. 

She is firm, almost rough, against your sensitive heat. When she draws her tongue across your clit with particularly intense fervor, you gasp, and a hand flies to the back of her head. You had positioned it there on an instinct to restrain her, to draw her back, but you find her palm urging her forward instead. A thrust of your hips drives her deeper yet, and her hands reach up to meet you, securing the inside of your thighs. Your heart thrums in your chest as she moves one hand down to your core. The pads of her fingertips are like water against you, callused though they are- you barely register their gentle touch until she slides them inside. Then she's pumping in and out of you, and you're dripping down her wrist, and it's all you can do not to cry out at how good it feels. 

You lose any perception of the time as Vanya plies nimble, practiced fingers into your folds. There's a sense of wholeness, of completion, but far more demanding of your attention is the desire. It surges through you like tongues of flame, searing your veins, until all that you are aware of is your unbridled wanting for the woman kneeling before you. You roll your hips, weave your fingers into her hair- anything to show that you don't want her to stop. You would tell her in words, but you don't trust that you're capable of coherent speech right now. 

She curls her fingers so that her knuckles push into your walls. Another moan spills from your mouth, and you feel her mouth, still pressed into your clit, twitching into a smile that just sends another current of pure, tantalizing sensation through your core. The room is blurry around you- you're vividly aware of your pulse. As you're still struggling to get your bearings, her index finger seeks your g-spot and strokes it jaggedly. That's all that it takes to chase you over the edge. Your legs jackknifing around her, your torso heaving, you let yourself go entirely, until you're falling, falling into her. 

Vanya's face remains in sharp focus- it's the only thing that does. Slightly flushed, lips sparkling with wetness, she's never looked more beautiful. As you recline into the couch, she climbs up with her knees between your thighs. The tang of your release pools onto your tongue as she kisses you. "I love you," you whisper between spasms. 

"I love you, too," she replies, caressing your face. 

"Did, um, did that help?" 

A dusky chuckle rises from her throat. It makes her lips vibrate against yours. "Yes," she almost purrs. "That helped."


End file.
